Penance
by liebedero
Summary: Episode Tag: Clip Show: He's been betrayed so many times, and in the end, it just hurts. Hurts where it can't heal because Castiel won't trust him. And when he does, Dean has the power to break him. The Angelic Trials are begun, but at what cost? Not overt Destiel.


"Hello Dean,"

The hunter started at the flutter of incorporeal wings from behind him, and the monotone greeting, but he didn't turn.

"Where the hell have you been, Cas?" It nearly wasn't a question, and his tone was harsh. Castiel was silent. "People died, Cas. People that we should have been able to protect. They're dead. Where were you?"

"Metatron found me. He wanted to talk. I was...shopping. I brought back groceries,"

Dean shook his head, turning slowly to face the angel behind him, but said nothing.

"They were out of pie," Cas continued awkwardly. "I-I'm sorry,"

"Sorry for what? The fucking pie?! Pie doesn't cut it, Cas! Hell, Sorry doesn't even begin to cut it!" Dean raged at the Angel. He stood unmoving, staring down at the tiled floor between them. "You were with Metatron! Doing what, Cas? Doing what, because honestly? I don't know if I trust Metatron yet. I don't know if I trust you anymore. I don't know if I even can,"

"He wants to close the gates of Heaven, to keep the Angels from bringing their civil war to earth. Apparently Naomi is only one faction vying for power in Heaven. I...I haven't decided what to do yet. He tells me that I must undertake the trials, which he knows. There is no need for the tablet,"

"Close the gates of...you haven't decided yet? What... what do you mean,"

"I wanted to know your opinion, Dean. What do you think I should do?" The inquiry was so pure, so trusting and without subterfuge that Dean could only gape.

"Well, what effect is it going to have here? I mean...if you're closing the gates, that means that-" He stumbled on the words.

"I'm not sure, Dean. I don't know what the repercussions of this might mean for me, or Metatron. I want your opinion, and then we can discuss these deaths you encountered. I will inform you when I make a decision,"

The man locked glances with the Angel tentatively.

"Close the gates, Cas. Close 'em. We can only deal with so much at once. I don't give a shit how you do it, or what it does to you, just get it done," He spat the harsh words without remorse.

The angel bowed his head slightly. "As you wish it, Dean,"

And Castiel fluttered out of existence and Dean's sight once again.

It was around three in the morning when Dean decided that being hungry sucked and made his way to the Bunker's kitchen; he knew that there wasn't much there to be had, but he went anyway. The room was dark but the fridge light clicked on soon enough and there, on the third shelf down, was a carton of eggs.

_"I brought back groceries_" Cas' words reverberated in his head, and he flicked the light switch as he pulled out the carton to fry himself some sunny side up. There, on the counter, was a plastic bag, and to the side of it, a case of beer. He pushed the eggs over the counter and reached in. Jerky and a copy of the latest _Busty Asian Beautie_s.

Dean's mouth fell open and he slid onto the stool.

_"They were out of pie,"_

Dean clenched his jaw and threw the skin mag across the room. He sat still for a moment and then, hung his head.

"Cas. Castiel. I- thanks for the stuff. I didn't thank you," He stopped, contemplating and then added "Next time, bring pie," because he hadn't forgiven the Angel yet. Dean had just stood up to start the eggs when he heard the flutter of wings signaling that Castiel had alit behind him.

"Dean,"

Dean let his eyes shut gently. There was no hello this time. No please for forgiveness. No sorrys to be said.

"Dean, I hear you. I always hear you, even when I cannot come"

The words hung between them, heavy velvet drapes in a confessional. There was no escaping any of it. He and Cas both knew what Dean was saying when he prayed.

"It will never be punishment enough. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I desire it. You are...important to me Dean. I do not wish to let you down. I do not wish you harm. I seek only to protect you when I can, from what I can. I can tell you what I would do, but I cannot promise you anything. So I will not promise you anything. I cannot always come when you call. Sometimes, I choose not to. I never do so without reason. But I will, always, hear you, Dean,"

"Cas, I-"

When Dean turned, the Angel was gone.

Crowley was cured. He hadn't heard from Castiel since he'd informed him, vaguely, of progress with the Angelic Trials.

One week since then, and Dean had not prayed.

He was waiting, something was building. Hell was gated and Heaven rolled and boiled and steamed like a raging storm. He could feel it somewhere deep in his bones.

"Cas?" It wasn't a prayer. One word couldn't be a prayer.

I will always hear you, Dean.

"Cas, man, buddy, I n- we need to know if you're okay. Hell's been shut and-"

Metatron appeared before his eyes out of nowhere, startling Dean into silence.

"He can't hear you. Not anymore,"

Dean's brow furrowed. "The hell are you talking about he can't hear me?" his voice dropped dangerously low.

"The trials - they have an effect on him like they did on your brother. Just...different. And he's very close now. Once the third trial is complete, he'll never hear your prayers again,"

"What the hell do you mean!?"

"He's falling,"

Dean could feel the hitch in his own breathing, the cotton swab feel at the back of his throat, words coming hoarse and guilty. "Falling?"

"It was his choice. He chose. We go, he stays. Human. Just like you,"

"You sonovabitch! You talked him into this, you-"

"You said that you wanted him to complete the trials, no matter what effect it had on him. Or don't you remember that part? Because I'm sure that Castiel has,"

"Where is he?" Metatron's jacket was fisted in Dean's hands, their noses inches apart. "I'll take you to him, for the last trial. You're brother can pick you both up later. Well, if he survives,"

The Cas Dean finds when the final heaven trial is completed has a burt hole through his chest, is pale, bleeding and barely conscious.

And so, so human.

Metatron was whisked away in a flash of light, and Castiel's form had erupted in a glow so brilliant that Dean had had to shield his eyes from it.

His head was still ringing from the fallen angel's screams.

He made his way through the whirl wind debris towards the broken, bleeding man, and gently pulled him into his lap, through groans and gushes.

He speed dialed the bunker.

"Sammy, Sammy, it's done. It's Cas...he's in a bad way,"

He waited, patiently, watching the angel - man now - grow paler and shudder. The same man that had always believed in him.

"I believe in you Cas. I- I have faith in you,"

It would have to be enough.


End file.
